All I Know
by MunkyWithASugarplum
Summary: When Quinn gets a late-night call from a shaken Santana, swearing & begging for Quinn's help with Lima's (ex)resident Broadway enthusiast, she wastes no time in grabbing her tickets & making her way to NY the very next day. *Set after events of and mostly canon until 4x15. Some mentions of previous non-canon events. Hopefully eventual Faberry. Let's see if (and where) this goes!*


**Welcome! :) I wrote this up on a late night of feels and outrage (unsurprisingly influenced by the nuisance and blessing that is Glee). I don't know exactly where this is going, or if it _will_ go anywhere in the first place, but I sincerely hope you guys enjoy Chapter 1 of hopefully more to come. Feedback is always nice and encouraging.**

**Love love, xX**

_***Generic disclaimer of ownership and/or affiliation with Glee or anything else mentioned in or pertaining to this story, other than the content itself, inserted here.***_

**Rated M for Future Safety and Yadda Yadda**

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"Hey."

The hushed whisper came from behind her, a disruption in the static silence. Slowly lifting her head from the warm shoulder in front of her and out of the smell of lavender shampoo, she opened her lazy eyes and smiled at Santana over the back of the couch, though the corners of her lips felt heavy.

"Hey," she answered, her whisper just barely audible over the dry rasp that had taken over her voice.

Santana came closer, making sure to avoid the floor where it always squeaked, and softly brushed the mess of blonde bangs out of Quinn's eyes. Santana was frowning, her eyes worried and calculating.

She studied Quinn's tired, swollen eyes before muttering, "I was going to hit the sack, but I wanted to make sure you guys didn't need anything first."

"I think we're fine, S. Thank you."

"Are you sure?" Santana's question, though simple, hung heavy in the empty air, her gaze still searching that of the beautiful blonde's. Her eyes couldn't help but flick to the body practically molded into Quinn's.

Quinn looked down to the girl soundly sleeping under her arm. Her head was resting on the back of the couch, her back pressed into Quinn's front and her knees curled up to her chest. Her cheeks were dry, but her full eyelashes still shimmered in the dim light of the night-darkened living room. She looked so calm, so peaceful. _Finally_. From what Santana had told Quinn over the phone the night before, she was almost sure Rachel hadn't slept like this in days. After her eyes lingered over Rachel's face for a moment, she looked back up at Santana.

"She'll be okay."

It came out sounding more like a question, and before Quinn could catch it, her eyes were misting over again, and Santana was quietly but quickly moving around the couch. She knew that lilt in Quinn's voice all too well. She lowered herself to the cushion behind Quinn, pressing herself into her back, a chin on her shoulder and a steady hand running comfortingly up and down her bicep.

"She will be, now that you're here."

Quinn rested her head against Santana's temple, a fresh wave of hot tears running into her eyes and her voice when she brokenly rasped, "You think so?"

Santana turned her head and breathed a meaningful, "I promise, Q," into her best friend's ear.

Quinn sucked her bottom lip into her mouth, willing herself to become steady again. A single tear rolled down her cheek, and a warm voice shushed her as a sure thumb wiped it away. After a very long minute, Quinn finally released her sore, reddened lip and lowered her head back to its original perch on Rachel's shoulder. Santana felt the tension in Quinn's shoulder slowly ease itself, and her hand gradually stopped its soothing movement and gave the girl's bicep a final comforting squeeze.

For a still moment, she allowed her warm breath to sweep across a pale collarbone before gently probing, "Are you going to stay here?"

After a brief moment of hesitation, she heard a quiet, "Yeah."

Quinn felt more than saw Santana's nod before the weight on her own shoulder was lifted and the cool air of the living room once again snuggled itself against her back. The couch behind her dipped a bit before rising again, and after a moment of rustling in the background, a blanket was being draped over both her and Rachel by strong, tanned arms.

Santana came closer to her once more, bending down to brush a light kiss over her cheek. A whisper of, "You're okay," planted itself on the skin, and Quinn's eyes fluttered closed at the weight of the words.

It was the same promise San had whispered to her on her darkest of days, grounding her back to reality and giving her the strength to do whatever had to be done. It was the same fool-proof promise of a better day that she received the first time she had dislocated her shoulder at cheer practice her freshman year. It was the same promise she heard when Santana had busted into her room sophomore year, only to find her crying about that very afternoon when the truth about the father of her unborn baby had been revealed. They were the same two words she received on the day she showed up on the front door step of the Latina's home with a bottle of peroxide in her hands. The same words that came out of trembling lips the first time they saw each other after The Accident. The same words that sounded through her cell phone speaker the night she thought that she could not handle Yale much longer.

The same words she was hearing repeated now.

"You're okay."

Another soft kiss lingered, this time on Quinn's forehead, as Santana smoothed her fingers through blonde hair. She stood back up, making sure her two best friends (she could hardly believe how quickly "Berry" had been replaced with "Rachel," and sometimes "Rach," in the short time she had lived with the girl) were still adequately covered by the blanket, and turned to make her way to Rachel's bedroom since the couch was currently otherwise occupied. After shutting off the lamp that was the last source of dim light in the living room, she stopped mid-step and turned her head back in the direction of the couch. Her brow creased in worry as she listened for the soft whisper she could have sworn she had just heard, and sure enough, she could hear it being breathed repeatedly out of pale pink lips against the shell of a small ear.

_"You're okay, you're okay… you're okay…"_

She could see over the edge of the couch as Quinn scooted impossibly closer to Rachel, enveloping the shorter girl tighter in her arms and burying her face into dark locks, further muffling her tender whispers. At the moment, Santana couldn't even tell whether Quinn was repeating the words to herself or to Rachel, and that just...

Her frown deepened.

She really hoped they were. Or at the very least, would be.

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**It surprised me how tender I saw Santana being towards Quinn and Rachel in this chapter, so I apologize if it is overly OOC. I'm afraid these characters may be a bit different in my head than in anybody else's. Her snark and wit will definitely make a comeback in later chapters, though.**

**I don't know how long updates will take me, seeing as this is my first story. Expect about 1-2 weeks once I figure out my next step. Hope y'all have/had a wonderful day/evening. :)**


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